


Library Anecdotes

by EmeraldCelebi



Category: Library Wars, Toshokan Sensou, Toshokan Sensou | Library War
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-22
Updated: 2018-05-29
Packaged: 2018-08-10 10:36:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 9,758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7841473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmeraldCelebi/pseuds/EmeraldCelebi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Short little library wars ficlets that aren’t long enough to warrant a separate upload. Updated as I write them; unrelated and not chronological unless otherwise stated. Ratings vary by fic and will be indicated at the beginning of each one.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. They Have a Lot in Common

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating: G  
> Words: 314

“Doesn’t she usually just pass out when she drinks too much?”

  
Dojo sighed ruefully at his friend’s bemused comment, keeping an eye on where the Commander and a few other task force men were holding an animated discussion with a tipsy Iku across the room. “Yes. Which means she hasn’t drunk _enough_ , or she’d be easier to deal with.” Komaki snorted loudly, tipping his face into his drink.

  
“There it is again. Honestly, Dojo, you sure are one to talk,” he commented around the rim of his glass. Dojo ignored the prod, trying to think of a subtle way to change the topic of discussion when Tezuka spoke up from his other side.

  
“She reminds me more of Commander Genda than she does of you, sir,” Tezuka stated knowingly, the blush on his face being the only indication of how many drinks he’d had. Komaki and Dojo both turned to stare, taking in this new addition. “I mean, they’re both so rash, and noisy. And they both have a tendency to kind of…” he paused to hiccup. “Say the first thing that pops into their heads.” He looked over at his superiors, finally noticing their stares. He furrowed his brow and blinked once, slowly, trying to get his bearings through the muddle of his brain. Komaki looked like he was about to reply when Tezuka stiffened abruptly, startling them both. “I’m so sorry! I don’t mean to bad-mouth the Commander! It was-- that is--” Tezuka looked panicked, desperately searching for words to remedy the situation.

  
“It’s alright; they’re just observations, Tezuka. Nothing to apologize for,” Komaki replied placatingly, having recovered from Tezuka’s outburst first. Dojo followed suit, clapping him on the shoulder. Tezuka swayed a little with the action.

  
“It’s fine, Tezuka, you weren’t bad-mouthing him.” Tezuka still looked worried, but immensely relieved, his emotions showing through very clearly under the influence of alcohol.


	2. Sick Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating: G  
> Words: 1670  
> I wanted to try writing in the present-tense again, so here it is! It was a lot more fun the first time. Guess you have to have the kind of story that works really well in the present-tense for it to work out best.

Iku hates getting sick.

It's been weeks since she and Atsushi have gone on a date or spent quality time together outside of work, and the one day they had set aside to remedy that, Iku woke up with a runny nose and upset stomach. He told her that it’s fine, they'll just take a rain check, and sternly ordered her to stay in bed, but the bitter disappointment weighs heavily in Iku’s mind anyway. Now, she lays in bed, slipping in and out of a fitful sleep and stewing in her own remorse.

It wasn't a day off for team Dojo; Iku and Atsushi had planned to go out in the evening after work. Naturally, they could make do without her, but it often required some adjustments to shifts to accommodate an unexpected absence. She feels briefly guilty all over again for causing Atsushi extra work, on top of a cancelled evening, which is quickly replaced with a wave of nausea. She groans and turns to her side, facing the clock and her phone on the nightstand. After a few moments, the roiling in her stomach settles and she’s just breathing a sigh of relief when her phone buzzes loudly and unbalances her again. 

“Uuuuughhggh….” Iku throws her arm onto her nightstand like it's dead weight, locating the still vibrating phone and dragging it off the table. She swallows uncomfortably and squints at the readout, then scrambles to hit “answer” just before it goes to voicemail.

“Hello?” Her voice is a frog’s croak, and embarrassment momentarily distracts her from nausea.

“How are you feeling?” Atsushi’s voice doesn't sound particularly concerned, but by now Iku can expertly pick up on the undercurrents in his tone, even through the distortion of the line. She glances at the clock and sees that he’s calling her during his lunch break. Iku considers insisting that she's fine, doing much better, and will be fully healed in time to un-cancel their date, but knows that would go over horribly, no matter how much she wants it to be true.

“...Not very well,” she replies honestly, feeling a small smile grow on her face despite her discomfort. She reflects that it's a little silly, getting so happy just from hearing Atsushi’s voice over the phone, but she can’t help it. “How’s work? I'm sorry for having to abandon so suddenly--”

“Iku,” he cuts her off, anticipating her protestations. “It's not your fault. It’s not that much of a hassle to rearrange a few things here and there when somebody gets sick. If it were, can you imagine how disorganized we'd be?” His voice is calm and commanding, like normal, which succeeds in putting Iku at ease. She’s glad to hear that she hasn’t caused any undue trouble, but still feels a lingering disappointment. 

“You’re right. I’ll be better by tomorrow, okay?” she tries to assure him, not sounding very convincing with her hoarse voice and periodic sniffling.

“Don’t rush yourself to get better; and stay in bed, alright?” Atsushi sounds amused now, and Iku dimly thinks she should be irritated that he’s laughing at her earnest efforts but doesn’t have the energy to feel annoyed. Instead, she groans noncommittally and turns onto her back, trying to get to a cool spot on the pillow. “I just wanted to check in and make sure you’re okay. I’ll call again after work, before I come back.” Iku nods, then remembers he can’t see her nodding and mumbles a noise of affirmation. “Get some rest.” Then he hangs up, leaving Iku alone again in the silence and stiff air of their room. She drops the phone back onto the nightstand beside her, back to feeling sorry for herself and rolling around in the empty sheets for a comfortable position.

Eventually, she falls asleep.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Hours later, the soft buzzing of her phone coaxes Iku from unconsciousness, and by the time she realizes she’s awake it almost stops. Again, she fumbles for the phone and hits “answer” just in time, still groggy from sleep.

“Huh-hello?” she garbles out as she tries to get her bearings. Atsushi’s voice drifts through the receiver again, a smile in his tone.

“Did I wake you?” Smiling and not at all apologetic. Iku rubs her eyes and huffs sarcastically into the receiver by way of response. “Anyway, are you feeling any better?”

Iku pauses to think about this. She checks the time and sees that the managed to sleep through the afternoon, and Atsushi was probably getting off work now, which she takes as a good sign. No getting up throughout the day to heave into the toilet or cry about how miserable she felt. In fact, she feels a good deal better now, if not somewhat grimy from laying around in her own sick all day. Her head still feels a bit buoyant and her nose is still clogged, but her stomach seems to have settled and is working up an appetite. “Well,” she clears her throat, “I actually feel a lot better now, thanks. Are you heading home?”

“Yes. I grabbed some stuff to make dinner. I’m glad you’re feeling better, because I bought enough for your usual meal portions. It’d be a shame to have that many leftovers,” he muses.

“Hey, was that-- I don’t eat that much!! Stop talking like I’m some kind of pig!!” Iku snaps, chagrined. Atsushi laughs softly on the other end of the line.

“It’s good to hear you back to normal.”

“...What?” Iku asks warily, thinking he might still be making fun of her.

“Nothing. You were just all mopey and apologetic for being sick earlier.” He sounds so genuinely relieved, Iku can feel her face get warm. She knows she can’t stop him from worrying about her, but his concern still feels like special attention when it’s directed at her. While she doesn’t enjoy making him anxious for her, she can’t get enough of his loving attention. The conflicting feelings make her feel a little shameless, but pleased all the same. “It’s weirdly out-of-character,” he adds, taking another jab. Iku makes a face at the empty room.

“It’s not weird to be sorry for causing problems…” she grumbles.

“I told you, there weren't any problems,” he says by way of brushing off her complaint. “I’ll be home soon, so you can get some more rest if you want. I’ll get you up when dinner’s ready.” After waiting to hear Iku’s noise of confirmation, Atsushi hangs up, again with no farewell to punctuate his phone call. It’s so like him, Iku has to laugh to herself. At least focusing on the familiarity of her husband’s habits can keep her mind off of feeling sick. She has every intention of staying awake until he gets home to make dinner, but ends up nodding off anyway.

 

The sound of dishes being put onto a table wakes Iku next, and it takes her a disoriented moment to even realize she fell asleep. She struggles up to a sitting position to address the noise and sees Atsushi at the foot of the bed, putting dishes on the table he’s set up. Their small kitchen table with their two chairs fit nicely in the space between their bed and dresser, and he had moved their television from their living room onto the dresser a few feet away from the table. The few DVDs they own are stacked by the television-- mostly action movies, as per Iku’s tastes, but also a few documentaries and a crime-thriller from Atsushi. Iku gawked at the home-theater arrangement in front of her.

“Did… did you do all of this for me?” She asks before she can think about it. Atsushi looks up and sees her awake, then surveys his setup.

“Well, it wasn’t really supposed to be a surprise, but you were asleep.” He coughs into his fist to cover up his embarrassment. “I know you were disappointed that we couldn’t go out today, so…” He trails off, turning in the direction of the kitchen where the smell of dinner is coming from. “I’d better get the food.”

Iku pushes the covers off and walks over to the table while Atsushi leaves, still full of awe at his generosity. It’s not as though Atsushi has never done something nice for her before, but she never would have expected him to go to all this trouble when all she had was some disappointment over a cancelled date and a common cold. A flower of warmth blooms in her chest, spreading happiness through her sick-weary body. Ever since they had first gotten together, Atsushi was always surprising her with love and affection-- seemingly mundane, especially for a married couple, but sometimes Iku still can’t believe where her life has lead up to this point. Not long ago, she would have never thought a man would return her feelings; for so many years, it seemed as though Shibasaki had dominated that department. Now, facing the setup in front of her as just a little bit of the physical evidence of her requited feelings, she feels no doubt whatsoever. If she still has a headache or nausea, she doesn’t notice it at all. Iku considers the stack of DVDs by the television, not sure if she’s up to loud explosions with her sensitive head but unwilling to give in to the education of documentaries, so she reaches an impasse. Before she can decide, Atsushi comes back in with dinner.

Iku has to make a conscious effort not to laugh at the poorly-drawn smiley face in the ketchup on her omurice, but ends up letting out a snort anyway. Atsushi shoots her a look, and she feels a little sheepish for laughing at his effort. The smiley face feels a little silly and childish, especially coming from Atsushi, but that’s what makes it so sweet, and Iku thanks him heartily. She’s surprised by how hungry she is after feeling nauseated all day. She passively blames it on the pleasure of her company.


	3. Hospital visit

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating: T  
> Words: 1277

Iku had put off visiting Instructor Dojo in the hospital for as long as possible following the Touma mission, but after confessing and finding her feelings for him were returned, she visited him as much as possible. She would spend whole days off in his room, bringing books or flowers or Tezuka with her to keep him company during his recovery. When it was only the two of them, his room seemed like a solitary space, shut off from the prying eyes of the world around them (or, more specifically, teasing coworkers). With the privacy that afforded them, Iku was starting to get used to the feeling of his lips against hers, thus far always gentle and hesitant. He was worried about pushing too hard too fast, and Iku, with her lack of experience, was grateful for the pace. As it was now, her heart could barely stay in her chest; it would thump hard against her ribs with every brush of his lips against hers, strong hands landing softly against her upper arms or her cheek, feeling his warm breath exhale through his nose against her face. It certainly didn't help that he was still required to wear the standard hospital gown, which left not much to cover him but the thin fabric and a sheet on his bed. Her face got hot just thinking about it; she was coming up with a lot of excuses to hide her ruddy cheeks from Shibasaki each time her thoughts got away from her.

Today, Iku came to his room alone, sans cake-- instructor Dojo had grumbled about his diet, what with all the “get well soon!” desserts crowding his room since he'd been allowed visitors. Iku gladly did her best to help him polish them off, but she too had her soldier's physique to worry about. She knocked and entered, and he greeted her with a smile.

“Tezuka was in the middle of a phone call when I left, so I didn’t even ask him if he wanted to come along,” she informed him almost apologetically after they exchanged pleasantries. She took a seat by his bed, and he took her hand as he had every time she visited alone for the past week. 

“Well, I’m sure he has nothing to report that you or the news can’t tell me. How was work today?”

“Nothing out of the ordinary, sir,” she announced, slipping into a formal tone automatically. “Sending up requests from the archives is a little harder to get done in time without you, so sometimes we have to enlist help from the other squads. It helps me get more practice, though, so I’m getting much better at it!” She clenched her other hand into a fist triumphantly as she said this, looking pleased with herself. Dojo grinned and ruffled her hair.

“That’s good! And here I was thinking you’d never improve.”

“Hey!!”

Pouting in defiance, Iku struggled halfheartedly to dodge his teasing. She peeked up at him from under the hand he had on her head and was suddenly struck by the reality of the situation. She watched his face, smiling and laughing at her affectionately, thinking about how not long ago she was crying herself to sleep thinking he hated her. It felt so impossible, but the love brimming in her heart and the hand clasped in hers felt so real. For a moment, Iku forgot she was in his hospital room, forgot that she missed seeing him at work, as everything in her world narrowed down to the brilliant man sitting in front of her who she was in love with, and who liked her back. She had to take a deep breath to steady herself, feeling happily overwhelmed. He noticed her pause and took his hand off her head, smile still in place but a question in his eyes.

“...What?” Iku realized she was staring, and looked away quickly, a wave of embarrassment washing through her.

“Nothing, I just--!” She floundered for a heartbeat. “...I was thinking, this is just so unbelievable. When I didn’t visit you here after the business with Touma-sensei was completed--” she stopped abruptly, thinking hard about how to continue. “Well, I never would have dreamed that… admitting my feelings would turn out this way.” She stumbled over the words a little, thinking he might be embarrassed, but she knew she had to say them anyway. She pointedly looked down at her lap, fidgeting with the hand that wasn’t held in his.

“And are you still nervous?” Iku stiffened, raising her head from where she had bowed it. The smile wasn’t on his face anymore, but his sharp eyes were still warm and understanding. She cleared her throat, which was suddenly feeling very dry.

“U-um… a little, sometimes,” she admitted, smiling lopsidedly and rubbing the back of her neck abashedly. “Only because it’s you, instructor Dojo…” The corners of his mouth turned up the barest amount, and he tugged her towards him. She complied easily, leaning forward and meeting his lips.

This, at least, didn’t make her quite as nervous anymore. He brought his hand to cup her cheek and she sighed softly. He was gentle as usual, so she pushed forward a little to firmly press their lips together, feeling a little more insistent. His fingers twitched against her cheek once in surprise, but he waited a moment to pull back. With a breath of space between them, he met her eyes, silently asking a question, permission. In answer, Iku closed the space again.

Dojo responded immediately, tilting his head a little to slot their lips together more comfortably. He opened his mouth just a little against hers, encouraging her to do the same. Iku hesitated, her heart rate picking up, then copied him. She felt his tongue against her bottom lip and couldn’t help the shudder that ran through her body. He laced their fingers together to offer a comforting gesture, then his tongue met hers. Iku moaned inadvertently in quiet approval, too distracted by sensation to even notice the noise that had left her throat. Her head felt like cotton candy; the slick, warm feeling against her lips and in her mouth felt so good she automatically fisted her free hand into the sheets at the edge of his bed to hold herself up.

He swirled his tongue languidly around hers, and Iku let out a shuddering exhale, hot breath mingling with his. She felt his thumb rub over her burning cheek, then he withdrew. As he pulled back, slowly closing his mouth against hers, he caught her lower lip between his and sucked on it lightly. Iku gasped, pleasure coursing through her body, and he pulled back completely. Breathing heavily, Iku took a moment before opening her eyes, meeting his again. His gaze was heat mingled with concern, watching her face carefully.

“Was that too much?” he murmured, lowering his hand from her face to her shoulder. Iku shook her head, still dazed. His gentle smile returned. “Good.” He let her catch her breath. “Why don’t we have cake, while you’re here? I still need help finishing it all.” She bit her tingling lip to confine a grin and nodded, getting up (on wobbly legs) to retrieve the confection. Truthfully, she wanted to kiss him some more. It was the first time he had been so forward, and after waiting more than 6 years for this moment, she wasn’t quite ready for it to end. Still, she decided she should show some restraint-- after all, they had the rest of their lives to kiss, and Iku wanted to savor that as much as she could.


	4. Please Touch Me Properly

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating: E  
> Words: 800
> 
> I'll be clear: That is NOT "E for Everyone", that is E for Explicit. This one is **nsfw (not safe for work)** . If that is not your cup of tea, then this particular ficlet will not be your cup of tea. (alternatively, if that _is_ your cup of tea, then you've come to the right place~, no pun intended)

Iku sat on the edge of their shared bed, sleepily buttoning up her shirt for work that day, wearing only a bra and panties underneath. Atsushi wandered around the room, similarly attired but without the shirt, busily picking up discarded clothes from the night before. They both had woken up before the alarm and were taking advantage of their early morning to get ready for work at a leisurely pace. Looking down as she fumbled with the buttons, she heaved a frustrated sigh, finding them difficult to manage in her still groggy state, and the noise drew Atsushi’s attention to her. He paused in picking up the clothes, turning to appraise her while she continued to struggle, an idea forming in his mind. A small, mischievous smile graced his features, unnoticed by Iku, and he put down the clothes and made his way over to the bed.

He dropped to his knees in front of her, prompting Iku to finally look up from her half-buttoned shirt in time for Atsushi to place both hands on her knees and spread them apart, pushing his face between her legs. Iku gasped, now fully awake from the startled shiver of pleasure that coursed through her body as he kissed her panties close to where they covered her pearl. Her heart began to flutter uncontrollably as he placed a few more kisses in the same spot, and she gripped the comforter at the edge of the bed in an attempt to steady the trembles that began to quake her body. One of Atsushi’s hands slid from her knee to her waist, easily pushing her backwards for a better vantage point as he continued to have his way with her. Iku let out a small whimper, frustration creeping in that he was not removing her panties as he added in his tongue. He pushed in on the wet cloth with his tongue, teasing her as though he were trying to penetrate her through her underwear. Iku was breathing hard by now, her voice sticking to her exhales in breathy moans with each press of his tongue. She managed to shudder out a whiny “A-Atsushi…!!”, rolling her hips in complaint, knowing she wouldn’t reach her release unless he touched her skin directly. Dojo hummed in question and the noise vibrated against Iku’s sex, pulling back far enough to look at her with a small grin still set on his face. From her lying down position, she had to crane her neck to make eye contact with him, frustration escalating along with the tension coiling low in her abdomen as she saw his smug (and unfairly sexy) smile.

She lifted her upper body slightly onto her elbows, feeling the heat in her face burn hotter with Atsushi gazing at her in question. His hands were still on her inner thighs, one thumb making slow circles inching closer to the leg of her panties. The effect was just as teasing and pleasurable as his mouth was seconds before, and Iku had to take a moment to marshal her thoughts, distracted. She swallowed, then began: “P…Please touch me properly…”

Now, it was Atsushi’s heart rate that sped up, struck by her ruddy cheeks and slight pout combined with the timidity by which she made her request. He took a deep breath and his expression softened obligingly, unable to deny her _anything_ , really, when she was that adorable. He slipped her damp panties off her hips a few inches and slid two fingers up to penetrate her sex, wriggling them enough to cause Iku to collapse from her elbows and groan softly in raw desire. It only took a few moments of this for her to begin trembling again, and Atsushi thrilled in the gasps he drew from her shuddering form with just two fingers. He moved to put his mouth to her clit, using his tongue to help Iku finish. Her legs jerked with the unexpected sensation and she moaned again, long and low. It only took him raking his tongue over the sensitive spot once more for her to finally climax, back bowing with her cry of relief.

Iku gasped for air as her orgasm faded, feeling spent and satisfied. After taking a few moments to catch her breath, she opened her eyes to see Atsushi standing in front of the bed where he had been kneeling, waiting for her breathing to calm down. He had taken her sopping underwear off her legs, knowing she couldn’t very well go to work wearing them.

“By the way, that dress shirt is one of mine,” he informed her, clearly amused. Iku finally noticed the too-broad shoulders of the shirt in embarrassment and he turned to carry her panties to their dirty clothes hamper. “But we should probably wash that, too…”


	5. Rain

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating: G, leaning a little towards T?  
> Words: 1187

The sudden downpour wasn’t showing any signs of letting up, even ten minutes after it started. Iku and Dojo stood under the cover of a bus stop, still holding hands from when they rushed under it ten minutes ago. Neither had thought to bring an umbrella; the forecast had called for a low chance of rain, so they didn’t think it would be necessary to carry around all day. Dojo scowled into the sheet of water falling from the sky, cursing the weatherman for being so inaccurate on the one day that week that was supposed to be good.

It was their day off, and the pair had decided to go on a date farther off base than usual so they wouldn’t be interrupted-- it was a general trend that something got in the way if they took a date too close to the library. It was the middle of the afternoon now, about 4pm, so they had gotten done most everything they had planned, but it was still disappointing to get caught in a gloomy downpour on an otherwise perfectly good day. Iku got all her grumbling out and presently they both just watched as the drops coated the world in gray. On the bright side, they were certainly getting their alone time, solitary under the bus stop. The only other people outside were the occasional random pedestrian, walking quickly huddled under umbrellas or rushing by without them. Iku couldn’t be unhappy with Instructor Dojo holding her hand, so her usual capacity for complaining cut off sooner than usual. Dojo was too preoccupied with annoyance at the weather to notice.

Iku glanced sidelong at Instructor Dojo’s profile, displaying his usual scowl. She reflected that it was unusual for him to not be completely prepared for a situation, and it was almost endearing. Even Dojo can make mistakes, sometimes. She thought about the Touma mission, and how it had been raining then like it was now. That was when she had recklessly stolen a kiss as Instructor Dojo faded from consciousness, only to turn and march back out into the rain, unable to know if he’d be okay. She still remembered how cold his lips had felt against hers, how the most reaction he could give was to go still in surprise. She trained her eyes on the ground again, embarrassed, and searched her mind for a new topic. Next to her, Instructor Dojo huffed a sigh (for the fourth or fifth time) and ran his free hand through his hair, still wet and flatter than usual. Iku couldn’t stop a small smile as she watched the action out of the corner of her eye. His hair plastered back down to his face when he lowered his hand. 

“Have you ever kissed in the rain?” Iku blurted out. She wasn’t really asking out of curiosity about his romantic history, but as a subtle way of suggesting they do just that. He looked surprised for a second, keeping his gaze on the rain in front of them, then his brow furrowed.

“No? Bad weather isn’t really romantic.” He paused, then appended, “unless you’re indoors, I guess.”

_Oh._ So bad weather _is_ romantic, as long as you’re inside, away from it. It wasn’t really relevant, but Iku filed this information away for later. She thought about it, and revised her strategy.

“We’re kind of indoors, right?” Iku noted cheekily, pointing up at the shelter they stood under. Dojo didn’t look convinced. “Just kidding…” Iku turned to face fully forward again, a little dejected. After a beat of awkward silence, Dojo turned, pulling her forward just slightly by their joined hands and pressing his lips to hers in one swift motion. It was over in a second, and he went right back to standing where he was before, staring at the rain and looking completely nonplussed. Iku froze in shock, taken off-guard by the sudden bold action, staring forward wide-eyed.

“We’re in the rain, and we kissed,” he concluded conversationally. “Now I have.” Iku unfroze, whipping her head sideways to glare at him. 

“Th-That’s not--!!!” She stumbled over her words, still reeling. “You know what I meant!! That wasn’t _in_ the rain!!” Dojo pressed his lips together to hold back a smile. Iku pouted, sharply turning her head away to glare into the rain and hopefully make her burning cheeks less obvious. He let her sulk for a minute, trying in vain to reign in his amusement so as not to provoke her anger any further. Eventually, he gave up holding it in and huffed out a small laugh. _Why the hell not?_

Iku slid her eyes to the side, directing a peeved glance at him when he laughed, but he just stepped forward and tugged her with him. They moved out together into the downpour, startling Iku anew. The water soaked them both immediately, and as she turned to ask what the hell he was doing, he kissed her again, less chaste. It took Iku a bewildered moment to react, and Instructor Dojo brought his other hand to cup her cheek and move a few soaked strands of hair out of the way. She gripped his jacket with her free hand and sighed into the kiss as Dojo tilted his head just so. The rainwater ran in rivulets down their faces and over their lips where they met, but his lips were still warm and sensual against hers. Vaguely, Iku thought it felt like they were standing in a shower, feeling the rain hit her hair and clothes and falling over her skin. The water chilled her a little and dripped within her neckline, but the places where Dojo’s hands and lips met were patches of sweet warmth. When Dojo pulled back slowly and lowered his hand from her face, his tongue darted out to lick some rainwater from her lips, making Iku shiver in response. She shuddered in a breath and opened her eyes, and Dojo pulled her quickly after him back under the bus stop’s canopy and out of the rain. 

They simultaneously began shaking out their free arms and wiping the excess water out of their hair, still not letting go of the hand they held between them. “Aww, man… now we’re all wet again…” Dojo rapped her head playfully.

“It was your idea!” he admonished. Iku giggled, wiping a hand through her damp hair and then rubbing the back of her neck, feigning sheepishness without really feeling sorry at all for making the suggestion.

“You’re right, it was.” They were back to watching the rain fall, soft smiles mirroring each other. Iku didn’t try to hide the warm glow she knew was showing in her cheeks.

“Well, now you can say you’ve kissed in the rain.” As they watched, the downpour seemed to lighten up a little, and a patch of sky appeared in the gray blanket above them far off to their left. Iku’s grin widened, and she pretended to rub her nose to cover it a little out of bashfulness. She squeezed his hand in quiet gratitude for indulging her.

“So can you.”


	6. Cover-up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating: T, only for implications. Nothing rated T happens in this ficlet.  
> Words: 1581

Iku felt a rush of exhilaration as she sent her tenth opponent that day tumbling to the practice mat. She straightened back up from her judo throw, surreptitiously checking that her victim was okay from the fall. She couldn’t hold back her grin of triumph as she turned to the waiting men along the side of the dojo, barking out a sharp “NEXT!” Since Team Dojo was placed in charge of martial arts practice with a group of defense force trainees that day, Iku had no choice but to face off with the men. Dojo didn’t look very happy about it, but knew it would have been old-fashioned and inappropriate (and somewhat possessive) to argue against Genda’s order merely at the idea of her being in close contact with other men. The men themselves might not have been taking her seriously to begin with, but by fifteen minutes into practice and with Iku claiming her tenth victory in a row, nobody was grinning and elbowing their neighbor anymore.

Dojo, Komaki and Tezuka didn’t appear to be breaking a sweat yet, from their places around the room, but the consistent strain of tossing around people much heavier than her was wearing on Iku’s stamina. She was beginning to put on a front, subtly trying to mask her labored breathing and tired muscles. The problem with men was they had their pride, and with each loss of one of their comrades, every one of them only became more determined to prove himself better by being the first to win against her. _Men and their stupid masculine pride!_ Another opponent stepped forward, and Iku exhaled gruffly, trying to disguise her fatigue and slight irritation as normal deep breaths. The two squared off, and Iku’s eleventh match in a row began.

The man she was against this time was rather lean, and in her tired state Iku misjudged his weight. She was thrown off balance as she tried to grapple him for another throw, realising he was heavier than he looked and breaking away from the contact before he could counter. They stood across from each other for a tense moment, coiled for action and sizing each other up before simultaneously attacking again. The match went on in a similar fashion for longer than her previous matches, with both opponents breaking away and attacking in spurts. Partly due to low stamina, Iku had some difficulty keeping up with his quick movements, but adrenaline kept her moving. She could feel the blood rushing in her veins, her heart pounding in a struggle to match pace with the amount of energy she was expending. There wasn’t much room for thought, but Iku knew that she wasn’t going to throw this fight out of fatigue. _I have my pride too, dammit!!_

Eventually, she got a leg solidly behind his knees and sent him to the ground, throwing herself after him to put him in an armlock and end the match. He didn’t give up without plenty of spitting and cursing, reminding Iku a lot of herself during her training period. She smiled dryly to herself at the memory as she released his arm and got up. She propped her hands on her hips, knowing she couldn’t cover her heavy breathing anymore, and turned to face the group of waiting men.

“Let me…” she wiped her forehead with her sleeve, stalling for air. “Let me rest for a second, huh?” A bead of sweat trickled down her neck towards her neckline, and she instinctively wiped it with the back of her hand. “I need to--” she cut off with a gasp, eyes widening in mortification as she saw the back of her hand and realized belatedly what she’d done. She slapped her hand over the place on her neck she’d just rubbed at. The defense force men she was addressing looked confused, waiting for her to finish her sentence. Iku froze, rooted in place, feeling her face go red with embarrassment-- luckily, her face was already red with effort, so it wasn’t apparent. Finally, she found her voice again. “I need some fresh air! Keep practicing!”

Iku escaped, picking her way quickly over to where Dojo was throwing another trainee to the ground. She got his attention with one hand, the other still covering part of her neck. He walked over to her, leaving his opponent on the mat, a question in his eyes.

“Can I have a word?” she asked, rushing the sentence out in one breath before he could say anything. She gave him a meaningful glance, trying her best to convey her desperation without being too overt about it. Dojo wiped his face with his gi, looking skeptical.

“We just got started. Can it wait?” Iku glared at him.

“No, not really,” she insisted, voice dropping to a cutting whisper. He cast a glance behind him at the scene in the dojo, then turned back, looking reluctant.

“Okay. What is it?” Iku resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Her ears burned with humiliation.

“ _I meant outside,_ ” she hissed, turning towards the large doors behind her. Dojo’s expression shifted to annoyance, but after a beat of hesitation, he followed her out.

With the doors safely closed behind them and the noise inside the dojo successfully drowning out their conversation, Iku lifted her hand from her neck and revealed the large bruise just above her collarbone.

“What should I _dooo???_ ” she wailed in misery.

“What should you do about _what_ \--” Dojo stopped suddenly, irritation switching abruptly to bewilderment as he recognized what he was looking at.

“I got Shibasaki to help me cover it up this morning, but I’ve been sweating the concealer off!” She indicated the streak of concealer she’d rubbed off with the back of her hand moments ago and buried her face in her hands, wishing she could sink into the ground. “I already made a big deal out of it!! They’ll notice right away if I go back in there…!!!!”

Dojo faced her awkwardly, suspended between his duty to send her back to work and the guilt that came with knowing her situation was his fault. He was silent for a deeply conflicted moment, weighing his options while Iku wallowed in humiliation. Given his nature, taking responsibility for the problem won out in the end. It was one thing when Iku embarrassed herself with her own recklessness or lack of forethought, but this time it was Dojo who had gotten carried away the day before, and that now was Iku’s cross to bear. It would be wrong to order her to just deal with the mortification-- especially since it was affecting her so deeply. He came up with a quick plan, and rested a comforting hand on her shoulder, prompting her to look back up at him.

“Listen, I’ll…” he stopped to second-guess his plan, then forged onward anyway. “I’ll go in and get the first-aid kit, and we can put a bandage over it.” He himself had done something similar not too long ago to cover up a bite mark on his shoulder from the first time they spent the night together. Iku looked dubious. “I’ll tell everyone you fell wrong at some point and were too embarrassed to admit that it’s bruising.”

“...Do you think they’ll believe that?” Iku asked doubtfully.

“Who? Because Komaki won’t.” She cringed, lowering her forehead to the palm of her hand. “But all those trainees in there are too keyed up about fighting to worry about your…” he trailed off. The word “hickey” felt too crude. Iku nodded in understanding, assenting to his plan. Dojo was an experienced veteran with unnecessary excuses--and besides that, she trusted his word. He briefly took her hand and squeezed it reassuringly before going back into the dojo for the first-aid kit.

He found the kit and doled out his excuses to anybody who was concerned (predictably, not many, as most of the trainees were busy pairing off and practicing on their own). As he got back to Iku and applied the bandage, he took a careful look at her skin, searching for any other bruises that might still be covered by concealer. Iku watched his wandering eyes for a moment in confusion, then realized his intent and colored out to her ears.

“....there are no others….” she muttered, sliding her eyes awkwardly to the side. Dojo nodded.

“Good. Then that should do it. Let’s get back to work,” he replied brusquely, packing up the kit and turning to head back into the dojo. Shame heated the back of his neck as he recognized that he hadn’t had the self-control the day before to not leave any marks. The fact that he’d checked to make sure there were no more bruises probably looked like he was belatedly trying to fix his mistake, _after_ it had already caused problems.

“Thank you.” Iku breathed a heavy sigh of relief. “I don’t know what I would’ve done if you weren’t there.” Dojo considered the collateral damage he would’ve sustained, being the person who _made_ the mark in the first place, if everybody had seen it and caught on. News travels shockingly fast in the Musashino First. It felt a little selfish to think that he had been saving himself the same embarrassment as Iku, but he took consolation in having eased her mind and gotten them both back to work in decent time. He pushed open the doors, and they both re-entered the dojo.


	7. There's No Accounting for Taste

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Words: 1379  
> Rating: G
> 
> This one's pretty plotless and ends kind of abruptly; I apologize in advance lolol but it was fun to write, so I hope it's fun to read too<3

_“Oh, Keisuke…” Ami looked up at him, tears glittering in her big, dewy eyes. “Is that truly how you feel?”_

_“Of course, Ami!” Keisuke grabbed her hand and held it to his chest, staring passionately back into her eyes. “I love you more than anything in the world. I know your father doesn’t approve, and I know things are hard right now, but that doesn’t matter!” He cupped her face with his other hand, using his thumb to brush away the tear that was tracking down her cheek. “I would do anything for you, Ami.”_

_Ami couldn’t stop the tears from flowing down her face at his heartfelt pronouncement. She felt overwhelmed with emotion; hopelessness and desolation at the situation facing them and incredible joy that Keisuke felt the same way as her, at war with each other in Ami’s heart. There was one thing Ami knew she could never waver on, and that was the simple fact that she loved Keisuke with everything she had. Choking back a sob, she threw her arms around Keisuke’s waist, wanting to be as close to him as possible. Their feelings had met, and although the obstacles ahead of them seemed daunting, she knew she could get through them with Keisuke by her side._

_Keisuke put his arms around Ami and held her close, their heartbeats mingling between them. “I love you,” she whispered into his shirt, trying in vain to stop the flow of her tears. “I love you too.”_

Iku sucked in a breath and held it, determined not to cry. She’d been reading a series of romance books on Shibasaki’s recommendation, and over the past week became unexpectedly fond of the characters. Since her usual tastes were more fast-paced, she had anticipated that she would grow tired after the first book, but the likeable characters and constant problems they faced created more than enough plot movement to keep Iku interested. Moreover, the slow development of the relationship between Keisuke and Ami had her thinking about her own relationship with Atsushi.

While she’d never expect or prefer for Atsushi to make grand romantic gestures like in romance novels, Iku certainly wouldn’t protest against such a display of outward affection. In retrospect, the start of their relationship-- “I might give you my cold; do you mind?”-- wasn’t exactly “I love you”, but if she looked at the gesture from a more nuanced perspective, it was somewhat clever of him. They were both people of action, so he used action to express his feelings to her in a way that she could grasp immediately. He always reassured her when she was feeling insecure, and he didn’t shy away from physical contact (including but not limited to his fist descending on her crown, unfortunately). She got lost in thought for a minute, remembering how good and safe it felt to have Atsushi’s hands on her, or his arms around her holding her tightly…

She pressed her hands to her burning face, now totally distracted from the book. How silly and girlish was it to still be so affected by the person she’s married to?! She closed the book in her lap, shaking her head at herself. Maybe it was better that Atsushi didn’t make over-the-top romantic gestures. Iku wasn’t sure what she’d do if he did.

The noise of the front door to their apartment closing startled her, and she threw the book aside in embarrassment.

“I’m home,” Atsushi announced from the doorway, taking off his shoes. Iku’s heart sped up happily at his voice, and she went out to meet him.

“Welcome back~!” She watched him shrug off his jacket, noting how exhausted he looked. He seemed to be trying not to give it away, but Iku could see through his fronts by now. Straightening up, he met her eyes and could tell he wasn’t fooling her. Iku grinned and spread her arms wide, and he took a few steps to fall into them, tiredly leaning his weight onto her.

“Thanks,” he mumbled into her sweater. Iku bit back a laugh.

“Dinner’s in the oven. It’ll probably be ready soon.” They stood still for a moment, soaking in the other’s warmth. At length, Atsushi straightened back up and pressed a quick kiss to the underside of her jaw in thanks, then shuffled away to their bedroom. “How was the commander today?” she called after him as she went back into their kitchen to set the table. She could physically feel his frustration emanating from across the apartment before his loud sigh of irritation carried down the small hallway and into the kitchen. The libraries were starting to make small changes to their constitution to accommodate for the slowly changing political climate, as regards the Media Improvement Committee, so select members from different divisions had been in forums and meetings all day. Wherever unruly Commander Genda went, Dojo was preferred to be present-- meaning he had been holed up in conference rooms all day long.

“I spent the entire day trying to tame his harebrained suggestions into reasonable ideas!! He never knows when to stop talking!” Iku tried desperately not to laugh, picturing Atsushi at constant odds with Genda in a small room full of stuffy people and stuffy air. As he rattled on, venting about every daily infraction and new gray hair Genda gave him, Iku’s amusement gave way to sympathy. “I strongly suspect he listens to me less and less, these days,” he concluded in resignation.

“On the contrary,” Iku laughed, “I think you’re the only one he ever listens to. And special advisor Inamine, of course.” She could hear Atsushi grumbling in response, and had to suppress another giggle at his expense. As she listened, he went quiet for a prolonged pause, and Iku took the food out of the oven. She was about to ask what the silence was about when he spoke up.

“Since when do you read romance novels?” Iku stiffened. She had completely forgotten about her hastily thrown aside book when Atsushi arrived, and he must have found it as he changed out of his work clothes. She’d been trying to be covert about it, since she knew it wasn’t in-character for her to read books of that genre, but it was really only because she wanted to avoid awkward questions. She hadn’t tried terribly hard to keep it a secret, but still felt vaguely guilty at having been caught.

“Well… Shibasaki recommended that series, so I was giving it a shot.” Atsushi appeared with the book, lingering in the kitchen doorway in a soft long-sleeved shirt and sweatpants. “You’re right; usually I don’t, but this series is unexpectedly good. It’s only been a week, and I’m on the third book already.” Iku watched as Atsushi began to flip through the pages. “It’s a good thing I all but live in the library, since the series is targeted for censorship.”

“Really? Why?” he asked without looking up. Iku shifted her weight, uncomfortable.

“Uh, because it’s… it’s a romance novel.” Atsushi raised his eyebrows in a _“yeah, so?”_ gesture. Iku frowned. Had he really never read an adult romance novel before? “So…. it has some scenes… that can get, er--”

Atsushi stopped on a page, giving her a bemused look. “I was teasing you. Those scenes are why--rather, part of the reason why-- I wouldn’t expect you to like adult romance novels.” Iku’s frown deepened, feeling a blush steal across her face. _What’s so unusual about a fully-grown woman enjoying reading about the moments of passion and love shared between two likable characters??_ Now that he’d mentioned it, she didn’t want to admit to it. She waved a hand flippantly, moving to finish setting the table.

“I skim the parts that aren’t interesting to me, anyway,” she said breezily, trying to ward off further discussion on the topic. She wasn’t exactly _lying,_ but it didn’t really address his insinuation, either. Atsushi muttered something along the lines of “the parts that aren’t interesting to you…”; clearly noticing her dodge around the subject. He let it slide anyway, setting the book aside and coming to help her so they could sit down to eat together. Mentally, Atsushi filed the conversation away to bring up at a more opportune time.


	8. Morning Sickness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating: G  
> Words: 655

“No! I won’t take them. They’re gross!!”

Dojo exhaled hard through his nose, scrounging up some patience from a rapidly depleting reservoir. He was standing by their bed with her medicine in the palm of one hand and a glass of water in the other while Iku, sitting in bed with most of her body covered in sheets, stubbornly refused to comply. “Iku,” he tried patiently, “The doctor said you have to take these twice a day. I understand that they’re gross, but it will make you feel better and keep you healthy.” Iku pressed her mouth into a thin line, staring defiantly forward.

“No. I won’t.”

“How is it that you’re somehow _more_ childish than usual when you’re sick,” Dojo grumbled, clenching the fist holding her medicine in irritation. Iku flashed a glare in his direction.

“That was rude!!”

“Come on, it’ll be quick. Just take the meds and wash it down immediately, you won’t even taste them,” he tried again. Iku jutted her chin out at him in challenge, eyes flashing. Dojo released another sigh of frustration. _Is this what pregnancy hormones are like?_ He was not looking forward to another 9 months of this. “That gesture was cute maybe when you were 6,” he muttered, unable to contain the sarcastic remark.

“I don’t care,” Iku cut out churlishly. 

“Iku.” Dojo set the glass of water aside and leaned in close to her, lowering his voice to a dangerous growl. “I won’t hold you down and force you to take these pills.” _If only because you’re carrying our unborn child,_ he added silently. “You’re going to take them yourself. Do you understand me?” In response, Iku turned her head away from him completely. Dojo’s patience snapped in half. _That does it._

Dojo threw the pills into his own mouth, startling Iku. She looked back up at him in shock. “Why did you just--??” Dojo cut her off, bowing swiftly and pressing his lips to hers. Iku went stiff with surprise until she felt his tongue on the seam of her lips, asking invitation. She yielded immediately without thinking, melting under his touch and allowing her eyes to slide closed as he gently slipped a hand into her hair. She could feel her heart skipping in her chest as Dojo’s tongue met hers in a slow, sensual dance. All thoughts of her morning sickness and fights with him faded completely from her suddenly distracted mind, until--

She felt his tongue push the two small capsules into her mouth and withdraw immediately, pulling back completely and leaving a dumbfounded Iku with an open mouth full of vile-tasting prescribed medicine. Iku whined in protest, and Dojo quickly slapped a hand over her mouth before she could spit them out. 

“ _Swallow them, _Iku,” he ordered icily, holding Iku in place. Her eyes began to water with the effort of holding back a gag at the repulsive taste in her mouth. She made an effort to swallow, at first failing and coughing a few times against Dojo’s hand, recollecting herself, and choking down the tablets on her second try. He lifted his hand from her mouth and Iku gasped for air, scrubbing the spittle and tears from her face self-consciously. She leaned back against the bedframe to catch her breath, exhausted from just that small endeavor. Dojo brushed his other hand tenderly over her forehead, pushing her hair back and resting his palm on her crown.__

__“I’m sorry.” Iku stuck out her lower lip and averted her eyes. Using a kiss to force-feed her pills seemed underhanded to her, but she was too tired to bother pointing it out. “Thanks for your hard work.” She didn’t look up to check, but Iku could tell he was teasing her. She huffed, chagrined, but decided to let that go too. He was only doing what was best for her, and while she wouldn’t admit it, Iku was grateful for it._ _


	9. Taken Care Of

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating: M  
> Words: 893

Atsushi was the kind of lover who always made sure his partner was taken care of.

That went in more ways than one-- he put her pleasure above his own, yes, but he also put her comfort and safety first. He never got started without knowing he had condoms at hand, and he never skipped foreplay for making sure there was no uncomfortable chafing involved in penetration. It was almost unromantic, the way he sometimes had to push Iku out of bed to get her to pee after sex (“Look it up,” he ordered with a stern look as she gawked at him the first time he insisted she use the toilet afterward). Still, even with his borderline mother-hen ministrations, any irritation with his nagging couldn’t perforate the cloud of bliss around Iku following his standard sweet, slow, passionate lovemaking. Not when she could still feel his stiff member hitting just the right spot, limbs still pliant and trembling from the incredibly satisfying orgasm he brought her to, or his lips and hands caressing the most sensitive parts of her body. She just did as she was told and mostly let him lead, since he was far better at it than her.

As she lay with her head tucked up underneath his chin, still-flushed cheek pressed to his warm collarbone, Iku wondered if he’d always been like that. _She_ was inexperienced, but how much of Atsushi’s sexual prowess was instinctual? She liked to think that his seemingly latent ability to render her utterly euphoric in bed stemmed from a passionate love for her, but even Atsushi wasn’t perfect at _everything_ on the first go. Iku tilted her head up to regard his peaceful expression. His regular breathing alerted her to his still-conscious state, but he lay with his eyes closed, one arm cinched around her back. She really didn’t want to think about Atsushi in bed with another woman, even in the distant past, but she also wanted to confirm how she was an exception from his past lover(s?).

“Atsushi-san?” They were alone in the hotel room, but she couldn’t help but whisper anyway. Atsushi lazily opened one eye to look at her, humming in question. The sound reverberated through her body from where she was pressed up against him. At the last minute, she changed her question--“Have you ever been in love before?”

He opened the other eye and turned his gaze to the ceiling above them, appearing somewhat caught off-guard by the sudden question. “...No,” he admitted at length. “Not until now.” He still wasn’t looking at her, but with so little space between their naked bodies, he must have felt her heart skip at that. She could feel her cheeks warm up with pleasure, and tried to hold back her helpless grin as he went on. “I guess I had a girlfriend or two in high school, but after that… Komaki dated while we were training at the Library Academy, but I didn’t so much. I probably only had one real girlfriend that whole time. I was single-mindedly focused on training.” Iku’s smile softened as she gazed at him fondly, catching another glimpse into the past of the man she loved.

“That’s so like you.” At last, he turned his head to look at her.

“Not to mention, it’s kind of hard to catch a date when you’re a 165cm “bastard midget”,” he teased her, squeezing his arm around her in faux reprimand. Iku laughed louder than she intended at the unexpected jab. She tucked her head back underneath his chin, sighing contentedly. In the blanket of silence that settled over them, punctuated only by Atsushi’s soft, sleepy breathing, Iku’s thoughts turned back to his experience. Atsushi didn’t strike her as a one-night-stand kind of guy, even in his rash younger days. Then, if he hadn’t had that many girlfriends in the past, he couldn’t have had sex with women before her _that_ many times, and that meant…

“... just naturally good at it, then?” Iku accidentally let her thoughts slip out in the smallest of murmurs, feeling excitement thrill through her body at the idea. Unfortunately for her, of course, Atsushi heard her, opening both eyes and tilting his chin to look at her again. After a beat of silence, Iku realized her mistake, and her flush spread to her shoulders in embarrassment. “I--!! That is… I meant….” As she stammered for an excuse, Atsushi slowly, deliberately turned over in bed, sliding Iku off of his body to lay on her back as he leaned over her. Mentally imploding, Iku covered her face with her hands, giving up on words.

“I thought I wore you out earlier, only to find you still thinking about it?” Atsushi teased her in a devastatingly low voice, tinged with amusement, that turned those tendrils of excitement into full-on arousal. Iku peeked between her fingers, catching his small, impish grin and the fondness softening his usually sharp eyes. “Can’t get enough of my _natural_ skill?” The growing need in the pit of her stomach made her bold enough to push her embarrassment aside for a moment.

“Maybe…” she lifted her hands from her face, sliding her hands up his chest to wrap her arms around his neck. “You could show me one more time?”

Atsushi, as always, took good care of her.


End file.
